Dear Mum
by P.B. Fluff
Summary: A collection of short pieces and letters written from the members of the DA to their parents during Deathly Hallows. Slight hints of N/L and H/G. Mostly from Neville and Ginny's points of views as leaders of the re-established DA


I'm not JKR. Consider this story disclaimed.

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"Shit," Michael swore as Ginny tried to gently apply essence of dittany on his cuts and bruises. He winced again as the healing salve stung his wounds but bit his lip to keep from muttering further swears.

"That was stupid of you," Ginny told him matter of factly. "That was completely idiotic. They were bound to catch you."

"You're one to talk," Michael said darkly, wincing again as she wiped blood away from a nasty cut across his face.

"Foolhardy and reckless as you may think me, at least_ I_ know how to keep myself away from being connected to anything serious enough to warrant _this_." She motioned to his battered frame.

"Oh right, breaking into Snape's office to steal from him. Totally not a bonkers thing to do at _all_." He labored to roll his eyes as one was black and swollen.

"At least I picked up a few tricks from Hermione and learned how to talk my way out of shit. Something you obviously haven't managed yet."

Michael rolled his eyes again and the snark wasn't lost on Ginny.

"Have you ever seen me look like this?" she motioned again to his battered frame.

Michael shook his head.

"That's because I learned how to talk my way out of things from Hermione and I learned a few lessons from the twins growing up. The most important being 'never get into trouble you can't get out of'."

Michael grinned.

"Look, I know I'm the absolute worst person to be preaching caution. Trust me, my family may as well groom the garden so the hedges spell the words 'fuck you, Voldemort' clearly visible from outer space. And as a result, I admit, yes, sometimes I've been entirely too brazen. But I've learned to do something a clever Ravenclaw ought to be able to learn to do too, especially in times like these."

"What's that?"

"Adapt."

Michael grinned ruefully. It was true, Ginny Weasley had grown more cautious with her growing bravery. A tall order, in his opinion, because she'd never been one for hiding along the sidelines to begin with. It had been when she'd seemed shy, adrift in a sea of fourth years and older at the Yule Ball, that he'd approached her, a small thing that seemed to demand attention whether she was ready to handle it or not. Her red hair had glowed brighter than any candle in the room, and for a time he'd thought he could make such a sweet, demure, little thing happy.

Boy had he been wrong. Ginny Weasley wasn't shy, nor was she particularly academic like some of her elder brothers. She was sharp enough, probably, he had considered, sharp enough to do well in Ravenclaw. But she had a rebellious streak that could not be contained and a fondness for laughing and playing Quidditch, rather than studying. He'd been fine with it at first, to find that in a situation in which she felt more comfortable, such a small, fun-spirited, attractive little thing had a sense of humor and a variety of friends. But it wasn't made to last. Michael spent half his time anticipating reactions for a much shyer, quieter Ginny Weasley. And that Ginny Weasley simply did not exist. Meanwhile, the real Ginny Weasley grew tired of his ill-contemplated attempts to please her and he too came to realize that it was not so much that he expected her to be quiet as it was that he was typically a quiet sort himself, and wished for a quieter match to suit his tastes. He suspected that she too, months before their final immature fight that lead to their split, had come to the realization that she needed someone more like her in a number of regards. Perhaps not someone as loud or brazen, but at least someone who enjoyed her humor and constant scheming. But of course, these realizations in the minds of a fourteen and fifteen year old had done nothing to dilute the heatedness of their argument or the heatedness of their split. If anything, it had intensified it, for neither could figure how to explain they simply weren't suited for one another, and Ginny wasn't one to be perceived to have backed down from a challenge.

All the immature bickering of two years ago was now of course forgotten, at least to Michael, who was merely grateful for the gentleness of Ginny's touch and the slight laugh in her voice while she told him he was an idiot.

"Thanks for helping me," he muttered.

She smiled. "We've got to take care of one another now."

He smiled at her too and forgetting the fights, and all the reasons why they were no good for one another and the essence of dittany burning on his face, he leaned in to kiss her.

She stopped him with a hand to his chest.

"Whoa. Um, when I said 'take care of each other'-"

"Oh."

"I meant -"

"Right."

She smiled sadly up at him.

"Still waiting around for Harry, I expect," he couldn't keep from grumping.

She frowned.

"It isn't just that. You and me, we've been down this road before. We know where it ends. We've learned. We know better. And the way things are now it's silly to waste time on something that doesn't really make either one of us happy. We've grown, Michael. Remember?"

He smiled ruefully. "I remember."

"We've grown apart, but together too. You've proved a good friend. Albeit a foolish one."

He grinned sadly.

"How are things with you and Cho?" she asked, packing up her medicinal supplies.

Michael laughed bitterly. "Hard to know, innit? What, with no mail."

Ginny nodded solemnly. "Some gets through. I wrote to my mum just last week to ask about the winter holidays."

"Not enough," Michael replied gruffly. This was true. Outside contact had been limited to family members and was, though it was never publicized, always read by one of the Carrows. Some students still had the Daily Prophet delivered, but as it merely served to publish the ministry's lies and attempts at pretending to still have power, this provided little comfort to most of the students.

"I'm sure she misses you."

Michael shrugged in his best "I don't care" manner. "Doesn't matter. Missing someone right now isn't the worst thing that can happen to you."

Ginny laughed bitterly at the irony of him saying this, bloodstained and bruised as he was.

"We are going to look out for one another though. So no more crying, and no more stupid incidents."

She stood and motioned for him to follow her.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

She cocked her head in a confused sort of look. "The DA meeting's tonight. The Carrows didn't addle your brains too, did they?"

He groaned. "If it's alright with you, I think I'd rather just go to bed."

She shook her head and took his arm to guide him away. "If it's alright with you, I think you'd better come. We need a reminder of why we're doing this."

_Dear Mum,_Ginny wrote, feeling slightly guilty for having told Michael about owling her mother earlier. It hadn't been an outright lie, but it had enough of a lie in it. Before she'd left, her twin brothers had presented she and her mother with this special piece of parchment they'd communicated through all year. It was a small thing really, but Ginny counted herself lucky, and had been glad at the thoughtfulness of her brothers when she'd found out all their mail was to be subjected to searches.

_I know you continue to tell me that there is nothing more important than my safety. And for the most part, I believe you. I want so badly to keep from getting hurt. I'm intimidated enough to do most of what the Carrows tell me. But not all of it. They want us to perform the Cruciatis Curse on fellow students, mother. They want us to practice Avada Kedavra on mice. And they make us practice the Imperious Curse on... well, anything walking. If this weren't madness mother, I'd agree. I'd even be persuaded to keep my head down and do as I'm told. Though I think you and I both know that's never really been my forte. But this _is_ madness mother. This is complete, evil madness and I refuse to be a part of it. I think you and father raised me to know the difference between what is right and what is the rule and I pray you will trust my judgment. In the meantime, I promise I will do my best to remain quiet in my rebellion. I will not go looking to get attention for what I've done, and I promise, no more sneaking into Snape's office. Or the Carrows'. Though I'd love to spell a niffler into the Carrows' office, perhaps through their window._

_I'm kidding mostly, and I promise that if I'm serious, again, I'll be careful as I can be. I love you, and give dad and all the others my love. I can't wait to see you at Christmas._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

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Review please!_  
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